A Quantum Conundrum
by ThetrueAmeliaP
Summary: The Tesseract had an unintentional side effect when the portal opened up over Manhattan. R&R at your leisure, please. Chapter 2 has a tiny swear word in it. So, sorry in advance.
1. Why, hello!

As light shot up into the New York skyline, a low rumble thrummed within each Avenger's gut. Captain America squinted to see a rift opening up in the sky. Starting as a light blue morphed into a rainbow of colors as the Tesseract tore through time and space. Soon, the dark, inky abyss of space held over the city like an open window and the Chitauri flew through swiftly, quietly, deadly.

The Avengers gathered at the ground level of the city, huddle into a circle taking in a full 360º of their situation. And boy… were they ever in trouble. One Chitauri let out a screeching howl; its haunting echoes left chills sliding down Clint's spine. A whale like creature, a spiny and rigid creature, weaved up and down slamming down into sky rises. Civilian screamed as steel and glass fell from the sky. The streets were smoky, squad cars flipped, ash fell from the sky like a winter snowfall.

The battle progressed quickly there on out. Rogers, Stark, and Thor quickly disperse to evacuate civilians Barton taking out the baddies from the roof, while Banner transforms back into the Hulk and goes after Loki, eventually beating him into submission. Romanoff makes her way to the portal.

Meanwhile in the Helicarrier, Fury was having the time of his life trying to stop his superiors from attempting to end the invasion by launching a nuclear missile at Manhattan, much to his ire they launched away. The missile flew across the sky, ready to take out the biggest financial capital in the world. Iron Man intercepts the missile and takes it through the portal toward the Chitauri fleet. The missile detonates, destroying the invaders' lead ship, which leaves their forces disabled on Earth. The backlash of force sent Stark flying backwards, however Stark's suit runs out of power and he falls back through the portal unconscious.

Natasha swore as she saw Stark seemingly phase through his suit; the Hulk caught both before either he or the suit touched the ground.

"Tin Man not moving." Hulk prodded the suit, and Thor ripped off the mask, Tony's face was underneath the metal faceplate. Confused, Captain America looked at the man Hulk was setting next to Stark; it was as if he was staring at a clone of the prone man. Both this stranger and Stark had identical faces, down to the weary stress lines and dark circles caused by insomnia.

His focus shifted back to Stark, Rodgers' hand hovered above his mouth, but no air met his hand. He couldn't check for a pulse due the armor, but he knew Stark was dead. He sat back on his haunches and looked dismayed, tears glistening but unshed. Hulk looked at Rodgers, then Thor, who looked away in anguish, Bruce's cries echoed around his head roared sorrowfully, startling even the dead out of their slumber. Stark and his look alike sat up with a strangled yelp.

"No one kissed me, right?" Tony's eyes were bright and glazed seemingly coming out of a nap. Glancing around sporadically, probably looking for any signs of success, "did we win?" Captain America smirked and nodded briefly. Unaware of the new presence, Stark proceeded to ramble about the delicacies of Shwarma and trying new things.

"Where the bloody hell am I? Where is Watson? Watson!" It was a low husky tone that struck Tony out of his mild shwarma obsession. "And who might you be…" his head turning to look at the random interlude on his brain train. "Oh…dear" they both mutter simultaneously, both recognizing the face that was there before them.

Barton stared absently at the two looking at each other with varying faces of shock. "Certainly, this has got to be the weirdest thing you've ever seen." Barton deadpanned, and for some odd reason Rodgers handed him ten dollars, "yep."

Thor, Selvig, Natasha, and Loki were near the Stark landing site when they saw the duo doing mirroring hand gestures. Thor looked at Loki, who looked perturbed but highly amused, brows furrowed but lips twitching upward in a smirk. Thor looked back at the duo who were currently looking at him. "Hey Thunderbolt, hey Reindeer Games, how's it going?"

"What kind of names are those, surely you can think of something a little more witty than that? We share the same face; I pray it is the same in the account of our brains." Tony blushed and scowled darkly. Rodgers and the now de-Hulked Bruce laughed heartily.

Thor ignored the happenings and answered Iron Man's question, "I am well, son of Stark. But, pray tell, why are there two of you? I am certain this is none of my brother's sorcery." Stormy blue eyes glanced back at the icy blues, of who reflected his words still rang true.

"That's what I'd like to know...Maybe some side effect of falling through the wormhole? Fury is not going to like this…" Captain America shifted uncomfortably in his position.

"I'm not going to like what?" Fury's voice rang through their intercom, and startled Stark and Rodgers. Their strange new acquaintance gapped at the two holding their ear, blubbering.

"My good god, gentlemen, what on earth has gotten into you…by George, what is this contraption!?" He pawed and swiped Tony's earpiece. "Hey—!" he clawed for his ear piece back as the stranger fiddled with the earpiece. "I swear to god, if you lick that…" he growled as the other man held the bud closer to his mouth. The man looked unashamed.

"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes." The man bowed slightly at the waist, then extending is hand almost begrudgingly, if he was anything like Stark he was most likely eccentric to an extreme.

"What?"

"My name, you halfwit…" Holmes paused looking around; he barely recognized the newly constructed music hall he read about in the New York papers. "Judging by Carnegie Hall built late last year looking aged to a significant degree…and the intricacy of your inventions, pray tell, what is the year?" Rodgers looked on sympathetically. Hawkeye coughed and spoke clearly as possible.

"2012." Hazel-grey eyes were wide as saucers.

"Oh dear…"


	2. Mirrors

Sherlock could only stare at his foreign surroundings. The general layout was similar to his old flat, the living room (of which he was sitting in) had passageway to the dining room, etc. But everything felt so…cold. He sat on a hard-lined sofa that had seen little use—to be frank, he much preferred the overstuff armchair in his study. His counterpart's home was meticulous, while his home was an organized mess; he vaguely wondered how the man found anything.

The man named Barton sprawled in the seat next to him; did people of this era have that little of manners? Though he could gauge that the man was that of a fighter and not so much of a gentleman. The dark circles underneath his eyes meant he was either ill or lacked proper sleep. Judging from the fact the man's complexion was a healthy pink; illness was out of the question. The light wrinkle around his lips showed the man usually had his lips pursed—contemplative? No, gauging based by the man's other behaviors, such as twitchy fingers (a habit he has seen in people such as Watson and Lestrade) and heavy sighing, this man was a workaholic. A glance exchanged between Ms. Romanov who sat in close proximity to Barton suggested the two met habitually outside work.

Mr. Stark pulled him from his deductions. His fingers locked in an all too familiar gesture of pondering. "So, Holmes…Are you seriously like the character in the books." He had a manic child-s like glee; this man would dissect him. Interesting

"Mr. Stark, I must inform you, asking me questions of things I have no knowledge of is mildly irritating. I'd prefer if you cease and desist."

"Please, call me Tony. Everyone calls me Tony. Isn't that right, Brucey?" A stocky chap, shockingly had the resemblance of Doctor Watson—despite they looked nothing alike—stared tiredly at Tony.

"Tony…Shut up." Despite the reprimand, Tony beamed at Holmes, eyebrows waggling up in a 'you see?' gesture. Bruce turned towards Holmes. Holmes couldn't help the moment of surprise as he recognized the facial structure of the man and the green beast that had saved him earlier.

"Y-you, you are…" He was ashamed of his flabbergasted-ness, never before had he been at loss for words. He stood up and paced around the man, poking him lightly with his index finger. He noted how the man's brown eyes shifted towards an unnatural green as irritation crossed his features.

"So that's how that happens…interesting." The Avengers, as they called themselves, seemed shocked with his behavior. Not the first and hopefully would not be the last. Bruce, however, seemed amused after inspection of each other.

"You are a medical doctor." He motioned to his unshaking hands. All humans have a natural shake to their limbs, but this man's hands were rock steady.

"I've had medical training , yes…" there was something he was missing. Temperament? Not even remotely self-conscious, personal appearances were secondary to his craft. He smelt like ozone, very odd for a human—the man himself was an oddity. He grasped the man's fingertips in his own. Flat—possible musician? Perhaps, but that would not be the reason he was here. He vaguely mused the idea of a group of vigilantes lulling villains into custody. No, that mustn't be it then…he saw the tablet in Tony's lap, complex mathematical and scientific algorithms sped across the screen. Scientist? The left hand was smudged with pencil residue. Someone with the technology of the future, but still takes notes with a pencil, left-brained, and focused.

"You're a scientist. Probably one who works in dangerous conditions? You've received medical training, from what you've said" he paused briefly, reflecting on the words Bruce has told him so far. "You've been in India for a brief period –you have a light accent of someone who has been practicing Hindi, probably practicing, no doubt. Yaha ēka khuśī kī ga'ī hai" Bruce stared, mouth hanging open, partial shock, but a twitch of a smile pulled upwards on his face.

"Khuśī mērā diyā gayā hai. Yes, I'm a scientist, rather a physicist. I study nuclear technology" This gave Sherlock a start, nuclear? "Please explain." Bruce looked troubled, eyes shifting to Stark and back to him. "I… made nuclear weapons…It's not exactly something I'm proud of."

Stark stood up, "Let's not pick on my science bro, m'kay?" That Californian drawl made Sherlock want to run up a wall…and not in a good way.

Tony stared Holmes up and down with a barely repressed rage. Visibly dissecting him, like he had dissected the doctor.

"You are different than in the stories. By no doubt due to a biased author. You are an ass. An emotionally stunted ass. Feeling the need to uncover what should'a been left alone" That was rather rude. "What makes you so different, Mr. Stark? From what I've gathered, your best friends are robots." Both bristled and locked into a glaring contest with each other.

Bruce, Barton, and a recently arrived Steve looked at the scene with keen interest. "They really don't like each other, do they?" Rodgers forever felt like pointing out the obvious. Barton merely shrugged and turned towards Natasha. "You want some popcorn?" "Come on then." The two left the room, leaving Bruce and Rodgers to stop the fight.

"Come on guys…arguing with yourselves will not help you in the wrong run." Rodgers put up his hands in a placating manner. Tony turned on him in a vengeance. "Enough outta' you, Mr. Rogers."

"I don't get that reference." Bruce sniggered but patted him on the shoulder regardless. After a brief period, Bruce had grown tired of the quarrel—he asked Steve to leave. "I'll handle this." Bruce calmly took off his glasses and placed them in a far corner of the room.

Tony felt a chill run down his spine. The Avengers, minus Banner, were no longer present. Oh…that could not be good.

"Ya' should'a stopped when you had the chance." Sherlock took brief pause to notice the change in Bruce's voice. The stopped their bickering and turned to find the Hulk looming over them with a fantastic sneer plastered on his face. He let off a howl that sent everyone in the building on their toes.

Sherlock looked at Tony. Tony looked at Sherlock. Simultaneously they bolted in a dead run out the door.

They didn't stop to see Hulk changing back into Bruce, nor did they see Steve laughing his butt off behind the door.

They ran to Tony's lab and slammed the door closed.


	3. Venus Fly Traps

Before we get started:

Ok peeps, I actually have some good plans for this story, though I might need a Beta so I don't piss people off. This chapter is meant to get the ball rolling. Don't worry this story isn't going to get dark (at least it won't be my intention).

So please, enjoy and let me know how I can improve/get rid of plot holes. :D

* * *

Quantum Conundrum Chapter 3

As the bulkhead door of Tony's lab shut, he and Sherlock fell to the floor in a daze.

"Honestly, I never thought he was going to do that." His breathes were shaky, riding between a nervous laughter and stuttering sobs of terror.

Sherlock, usually one for words, found no words to speak of at that moment. A true Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde scenario he thought he would never ever began to fathom happening.

Tony saw that Sherlock was indeed very frightened and decided to have a moment of compassion—the poking and prodding could come later—and gave Sherlock a reassuring gesture.

"He would never hurt _us_, you know? Mr. Anger management problems does on occasion have…destructive tendencies, but he's saved my live so many times, I lost count."

"Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. I think I will be alright, my good chap." Sherlock gave a small smile, clearly still shaken, but less disturbed.

The two sat in relative silence for a minute. The Hulk had not made a peep beyond when they first got sight of him. The assumed Banner had calmed down…or Rogers calmed him down with a tranquilizer.

Sherlock had taken to wandering the lab, poking at a few inane instruments, like Dummy—for instance, purred in pleasure of being noticed.

"This contraption, it has intelligence?" Sherlock poked the machine once again, eliciting a similar response of that cooing noise.

"No, not really, he's quite an idiot. It's why I named him Dummy." Tony meant it as a joke, but the comment went ignored…he shrugged it off.

"Let's start over. The name's Tony Stark, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Holmes." Tony extended his hand, grasping onto Sherlock's extended hand.

"Sherlock Holmes. You may call me Holmes, Mr. Stark. Now that we've made our acquaintances, shall we go see if Mr. Banner is available for…conversation?" Tony smirked, they maybe two separate people but damn if they didn't have similar interests.

"JARVIS, can you give me whereabouts of Bruce?"

"Mr. Banner is in the living room with Mr. Rogers, sir. Right where you left them, sir."

"Wha-?"

"I believe they played a prank on you, sir." Tony's face morphed into a pout, then into a twisted grin.

"Yo Holmes, how 'bout I show you how to have fun in the 21st century?" He grabbed onto Sherlock's arm before the man could protest and dragged him to a secret passageway.

The door slammed shut right behind them.

People would rue the day someone played a prank on Tony Start and Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

Elsewhere in 19th century London, a mid-aged doctor paced back and forth in his friend's flat.

"Where is he, Mrs. Hudson? We have…had a case!" He was furious, oh so very furious. He turned down several wealthy clients, at Holmes' insistence, and now he was gone and they had lost the case.

"I don't know, my dear. Mr. Holmes left this morning for breakfast and never came back." She was ringing her hands anxiously, and suddenly Watson felt terrible for yelling at her.

"Well then, I will just have to find him then, ring his scrawny little neck, and make him apologize for worrying us, isn't that right?" He placed on his bowler and coat, pecked Mrs. Hudson on the cheek and bid her a good afternoon.

Watson was familiar with Sherlock's frequents and habits. He was no fan of eating, Mrs. Hudson usually forced him to have a meal on occasion. He must have gone off to meet someone or…spy on someone.

It was too soon into a case for any danger to appear, but just in case, Watson stuffed his Mark III Adams Revolver into his coat liner, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Their client appeared yesterday at the door stoop, a small, sniveling, and grimy sort of fellow. Holmes of course looked upon the man with intrigue and let him in. The case involved drug smuggling, at least from what the client had told them. Either opium or cocaine, dear Lord, please don't let Holmes be snuffling that infernal drug again. The man said something about the docks, so that's where Watson would go.

He was nearly down Baker Street when he saw an iridescent blue glow in an alley. Oddly enough, no one paid the glow any mind, but he on the other hand was just so enamored by it.

He turned into the alleyway, watching the glow playing like water on the walls. He came to a…hole, which is the best he could describe it, a hole in the alley wall that just when into a dark void. He could see two men arguing, a man in green and gold and another in red and silver. One held a scepter and the other a giant war hammer. They fought with awesome powers, lighting and magic. Loki and Thor, he thought immediately, remember the Norse myths he heard prattling about in school. So amazed by this glowing gate, he did not even see the man in green stop and stare at him with a sinister grin.

"NO!" a loud booming voice shook him to his core, like thunder in his head. The watery gate closed around him.

* * *

What did ya think? Was it bad? Was it good? I know it was short, but I have classes. I do hope to write more of this story (I have an ending in mind), so just be patient with me.

BTW PRANK WARS are comin' up!


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